


Spider Hunter

by Bigramen



Series: Spider Hunter [1]
Category: overwatch
Genre: Oh god he’s good at something other than bombs, Spiders, hes also borderline feral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 00:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bigramen/pseuds/Bigramen
Summary: Junkrat is good at getting spiders and has become the go-to for anyone in the base.





	1. Wolf Spider

It was 2:34 a.m. on a brisk October morning, when a broken scream shattered the calm that had settled on the sleepy Overwatch base. Brigitte stumbled out of her room, frantically grasping at her night robe. She jogged down the hall, looking for the door covered in soot. Despite her misgivings, she knew he was the only man for the job. He has the skill, the passion, the finesse she needed for a job like this. 

Her desperate knocking gave way as the door opened, and there stood Jamison Fawkes, spider hunter extraordinaire. No words were spoken, the look on her face and the shaky pointed finger telling the whole story. He was needed, yet again. With a lopsided grin, he gestured for her to lead the way, following behind her with his matching lopsided gait. 

Junkrat enters the room, and his steps are slowed as he is momentarily distracted by his new environment. The small glimmer of something shiny on the dresser, not quite...The pull on his hand brings him back. There’s a spider to be dealt with. Brigitte gestures to the bathroom and pushes him towards the entryway, eager to remove the invader from her living quarters. 

With a giggle, Junkrat drops to a crouch and begins forward, as though he is stalking a large monster. Scuttling into the bathroom and disappearing from sight, the room goes still. Brigitte freezes, the realization of what she had just realized washing over her. That bathroom would never be the same. She could have just taken care of it herself. She could have gotten literally anyone else, but she panicked, and now she’s-

Her thoughts are cut off by a sudden thud, which sounds less like the explosion she was expecting and more like a peg leg slipping on tile. The stream of curses that follow confirms this, and the hunt is on. What she can only imagine to be all her shower accessories, bottles, all of her imported brands, thudding and bouncing as the wild man flails and screams, with only the words “cunt” and “bastard” being discernible. What started out as a completely wordless interaction had quickly dissolved into the loudest, most violent outbursts Brigitte could possibly imagine. But, with a triumphant “AHA,” the room fell quiet once again. 

Emerging from the bathroom, his hands cupping the offender, was a beaming Junkrat.

“Cheeky fellow, tried hiding in the shower curtains. No worries though, he was just curious. Or, hehehe, she. Got a few little ones on her!”

To emphasize his point, he gently lifts his hand so that Brigitte can peer in. Against her better judgment, she does, leaning in closer to see exactly what he meant. 

Not only was it a large spider, but her back was constantly moving. Writhing. It took a minute for Brigitte to realize that the spider was completely covered in babies, thousands of tiny spiders. Stunned, the sound fought its way out, the sister of the scream she let out only a few minutes before. Her wide-eyes met Junkrat’s as he jumped back, his own scream matching hers as he threw his hands back in surprise. And with that, Brigitte watched the spider arc through the air, landing gently on her bed before disappearing yet again. 

Before she could even react, Junkrat was squatting again, but this time his giggle was more of a cackle. The hunt was on, again.


	2. Orb Weaver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog has to witness this bullshit now

Roadhog used to love the quiet. The peaceful bliss he once had, however, had twisted into paranoia and anxiety after he met Jamison. The young man was always making some noise, even going so far as talking in his sleep. When things did get quiet…things were bad. The Rat was scheming. 

At this moment, the infamous duo were holed up in some godforsaken abandoned house, hoping to pass the night without incident. Roadhog found a nice couch (despite kind of musty smelling) and was hoping to settle in for the night, when the quiet fell like a blanket over the house.

“Rat,” he called into the darkness, realizing he had no idea where Jamison had disappeared to. With a heavy sigh he pulled himself to his feet and trudged through the shack, floorboards announcing his every movement. Rounding the corner, Roadhog could see several small tufts of smoldering hair burned away in the corner. The young man crouched quietly, almost completely still if not for his breathing.

With a grunt, Roadhog stepped forward with a particularly loud squeak of the floorboards that brought Junkrat back to reality. To his absolute horror, he watched Junkrat bring his hand to his mouth before turning quickly to face him, his eyes wide with panic. 

“Out. Spit out whatever that was,” Roadhog grunted as he closed in, his hands outstretched to catch the young man in case he tried to run. Which, to Roadhog’s dismay, he did. Dashing to the side, Junkrat let out a shrill scream, except without opening his mouth. If this was Roadhog’s first rat rodeo, he would have been surprised and maybe even shocked. Much to his dismay, however, these antics were quite common and he easily scooped the young man up by the harness strapped around his torso. Lifting Junkrat up into the air, Roadhog held his palm up to the squirming man’s mouth. 

“Out. Drop it.”

With a small indignant grunt, Junkrat opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. A large... something, enveloped in saliva, rolled lazily out and into Roadhog’s palm. Squinting in the darkness, Roadhog could see the gentle twitch of legs. A spider. Junkrat put a spider in his mouth. His head swiveled to stare at the young man, glass lenses meeting glowing golden eyes in a silent question. 

“Dunno mate. Panicked.”

With a loud thud, Junkrat was dropped to the floor. The silence in the house was officially broken, and Junkrat cursed and hollered all the way to the kitchen. The banging of pans and slamming of cupboards reassured Roadhog for the moment, but his attention was drawn back to the twitching spider in his palm. He grunted as he brought his other hand to his forehead, attempting to knead at the tenseness beneath the mask. Why was that boy like this?


End file.
